


The Nighthowlers: The War Diary

by Blacknight655



Series: The Nighthowlers [3]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Tragedy, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-19 17:37:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14878286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacknight655/pseuds/Blacknight655
Summary: Thieves. Murderers. Monsters. That is what they call us, not that we care anymore. The fallen angels cast into hell in search of redemption and purpose, forgotten and abandoned.Yet when our sons and daughters speak of this war and us they will speak with pride and resolve. Of mammals forged in blood and death. Where the smoke is thickest and fire hottest. Where the blood runs free and where leasers dare not tread is where you’ll find us. In hell is were we find forgiveness.We are the ghosts almost all forgot.We are Nighthowlers.





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

2006, 10 years before the hight howler scare and tensions between the prey supremacist North Korean government and the west reach boiling point. An ultimatum from the US, Britain, France and other western powers forces China to either support its eastern neighbour or watch its influence in the far east decline. China chooses North Korea and begins deploying troops to the Korean Peninsula. The west begin to mobilise in response as Russia watches from the sidelines waiting to see who will be stronger. 

The far east is a powder keg waiting for the slightest spark and when a North Korean missile test flies off course and lands inside South Korea the region explodes. The war spreads like wild fire as over night countries across the world are forced to chose between the Chinese dragon and the American eagle. 

Ultra nationalists and prey supremacist groups in Russia, including the army, demand the Russian government support the Chinese however the Russian government delays…and delays…for 2 years.

Finally the tension in Russia snaps in a coup d'etat. The government is ousted and a military junta takes power quickly declaring war on the western alliance. The next 2 weeks sees Russian armies invade their neighbour states that wont join them. Belarus, large areas of Ukraine, the Baltic states and eastern Poland fall in quick succession. Next Scandinavia enters the cross hairs.

The large numbers of forces and casualties involved resulted in the formation of Penal Battalions by both sides. Formed from civil, military prisoners and prisoners of war they, in the west, are initially only used for support purposes such as repairing infrastructure and delivering supplies to the front. However after 2 years the high command realises it would be more cost effective to use these poorly trained, cheap penal units in the place of highly trained expensive regular formations.


	2. Operation: Poseidon’s fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying out a new writing style by having the story told by the main character in the chapter. I'm in two minds about whether to keep it so let me know what you think.
> 
> Also if you have any suggestions for scenarios in future chapters let me know.

Russian forces have seized control of the vital port of Narvik in northern Norway , as large amounts of Swedish iron ore and steel come through this port en-route to European nations its capture by the Russians cannot be tolerated. The forces assembled are done so on short notice meaning most units have yet to see combat. One is the 16th combat engineer (penal) battalion, of the 73rd infantry regiment. None of them know it yet but this battle will cement their reputation and will earn them the name of Nighthowlers.

Narvik, Norway: 27th of November 2008. 07:00 hours.

My name is Jonathan Spencer Blackwell. I was a 15 year old private back then. A wolf pup from Chester in Britain who still had two working legs, a full body of fur and a mind that wasn’t constantly trying to fight me. Hard to believe I know. I’d already served 2 years in the battalion and it had been the first time in my life where I felt, not safe but secure. I had 3 meals a day, goodish company and something to do with my miserable life. Even picked up some useful skills while building bridges and clearing minefields. But then the order came down. We were to be sent into combat for the first time.

The weather was overcast and depressing as a light sleet fell. The water in which we floated had a slight swell just enough to make me feel queasy but not go over board. Pun intended. An artic wind blasted us in the face as it was channelled down the fjord adding to the already present shiver of fear. The clatter of the small vessels engine, like a ping pong ball in a baked bean tin, was drowned out by the sounds of war but I could still feel it coming up through the steel beneath my frozen paws.

Our task was to destroy the anti ship batteries at the reoccupied Tjeldoy fort just outside Narvik. They guarded the narrowest point of the fjord and were the last defense before the city itself. If we failed then another wave was set to go in 2 hours behind us. Come to think of it HQ was probably just using us to find out precisely where the enemy guns were. 

The preparations were a rushed affair. They gave us whatever was available which meant diving into the classifieds. Some were only armed with double barrelled shot guns and buck shot, while others got WW2 bolt action rifles with a smattering of machine guns added in. Me? I was a charge donkey. It was my responsibility to carry 4 satchel charges and destroy the pill boxes, barbed wire and navel guns that where sure to meet us. Each of these charges contained 25kg of C4 explosive and their straps bit into my neck and shoulders. No armour, no experience and no training. My only other weapons were a Webley mk 6 revolver with 6 rounds loaded, another 12 spare and an 18 inch bayonet both World War 1 vintage. 

“1 minute mammals, good luck!” the helms mammal called out. 

Jets screamed in at wave top hight. Their engines throwing icy water into our faces as we slowly chugged our way towards the beach in our landing craft. Beach is being rather generous. It was really just rocks that gently rose out of the depths of the fjord. Barren and defenceless they was nothing between us and the bullets when we landed except a paw full of craggy outcrops. The thunder of the navel bombardment came from behind us shells and missiles flew over our heads and slammed into the rocks and enemy positions ahead.

Riley was just a sergeant back then. The lion who also happened to be a disgraced ex-royal marine was one of the few of us who had trained for this. “Alright lads and lasses when we land I want all of yeh up and runnin straight for those Russkie bastards!” His voice somehow sounded extra authoritative when twined with a Glaswegian accent and blood red mane. It was then the shells began landing around us. The shock waves rocked our small craft and threw yet more icy water over our heads, soaking straight through our uniforms and fur. The violent rocking had some throwing up while other slipped in the ankle deep pool of water and vomit now at the bottom of the glorified shoe box.

“30 SECONDS!” Another salvo of enemy artillery came in, closer this time. Magnificent towers of water, coloured white and royal blue, shot sky ward with a terrific roar before hurtling earthward. 

“20 SECONDS!” Our bombardment lifted as the enemies landed closer. One shell landed in front of the landing craft next to ours, passing beneath it before exploding. The vessel was lifted clean out of the water and those within where thrown in all directions, some bounced off our craft then disappeared beneath the waves.

“10 SECONDS!” Another salvo and this time it didn’t miss. 

Our boat was thrown over depositing us into the frigid waters where the weight of my equipment instantly dragged me beneath the waves. It wouldn’t have even mattered if I wasn’t wearing any of it as I hadn’t learnt to swim. What? It was never high on my priorities. The ice cold shock made my muscles seize and mind race. Mammals drowned, for many silently screaming was their last act as they disparately tugged on their webbing. Others were cut to pieces by white hot lead still beneath the surface, their blood slowly flowing into the freezing water dyeing it red.

I had resigned myself to my fate by this point. Didn’t really have much keeping me going anyway, when a familiar sandy paw grabbed me by the scruff of the neck. A harsh yank resulted in my head rocketing towards the surface. I burst through the barrier between two hells, cough and choking up salty water. I was shaking like a new born pup though whether it was fear or the harsh temperature wasn’t clear at the time. The crack and snap of bullets had me wanting to throw my self back under the water but the unyielding paw on the back of my neck stopped me.

“GET UP PRIVATE!” The Scottish lion blasted at my face. “I GOT PILLBOXES THAT NEED DESTROYING” The almost manic smile was a little disconcerting. Mammals were being sliced up left and right, or were being thrown into the air as yet another salvo flew in. The shells shattered the rocks beneath my paws turning it into thousands of deadly projectiles. “MOVE IT!” With that I was unceremonious thrown ashore while Riley went off to find an officer.

Waves rolled up and over us while most huddled behind small outcrops of rock where a thousand elephants couldn’t move them. “FORWARD MAMMALS!” the Lynx captain ordered but no one moved. He tried grabbing a cowering fox by the arm and pulling him forward but the vulpes shook him off, all the while trying to force himself through the ground sobbing uncontrollably. “FORWARD!” again nothing. He’d obviously had enough of being ignored and drew his pistol. “ATTACK!” the officer roared while levelling his gun at me. 

I weighed my options. Certain death verses probably death, what a choice. 

I started to crawl, my belly being cut by the barbed, fractured rocks beneath. The enemy artillery didn’t stop and those god forsaken screeches, whistles and howls burned themselves into my skull. You prayed you’d hear a bang at the end cause it meant you’d survived. Desecrated corpses lay spread like jam across the landscape. Some moved, their life not completely extinguished yet. All the blood didn’t faze me as I had seen this much before. One mammals was screaming for his mother while desperately trying to force his intestines back into himself. 

Somehow the machine gunner in the first pillbox didn’t see me, maybe all the smoke from the arty obscured me or maybe he just didn’t believe I’d make it. If that was the case it would be the last mistake he’d make. The concrete box was situated on a raised, craggy, shelf that acted as a natural sea wall. 

Finally close enough I pressed my self up against the fake stone structure with the machine gun over my left shoulder. I could hear the two inside working the gun, reloading, cursing and…laughing. My blood boiled in my veins at that, then they started shooting again. The noise was beyond deafening as the gunner and his assistant began firing a fresh belt down range. Instinct and pain made me jam my fingers in in my ears, it was like having red hot pokers forced through my ear drums, but that rage coursed by the laughing was still there. Unclipping the first charge I exposed the fuse, being forced to ring it out. 

My heart thundered in my chest, fuelled by the newly lit fire of fury. “Laughing huh? Well I got joke. It’ll leave you in stitches!” It took several attempts but eventually the fuse began to fizz. With the now ticking bomb in my paws I threw it through the same gap the machine gun jutted out of. Then very quickly slid back down off the ledge bellow the position as their gun abruptly stopped firing. A horrified scream of “Blyat!, Blyat!” followed by desperate scuffling came from with in.

An ear splitting bang silenced both as concrete and steel were flung in all directions. “Not laughing now, ARE YEH!” shouting and hurling abusing at the enemy gave me something to focus on and began to get my heart under control once again. For a moment at least. One of the other gunners saw me and obviously didn’t like what I’d done to their friends, bullets cracked past me as I forced my self in to the rocks. One round carved a seizable trench in my foot though I failed to notice it at the time being off my face on adrenaline at the time.

However the gunners over exuberance with the trigger quickly emptied the gun of ammunition. I dived out from my sanctuary and scurried under his position where his gun wouldn’t go low enough to get a bead on me. As the second charge was prepped I could hear a heated discussion between the occupants. Two male and one female. No Idea what they were saying but I imagine the females went something along the lines of “Lets get the fuck out of here” as one set of foot falls ran towards what I guess was the exit. The others called after her…then shat themselves as 25kg’s of high explosive were mailed through the firing slit. 

With two pill boxes gone the third stopped firing and I watched as the panicked occupants began escaping down the half completed trenches. They snaked there way back down the small ridge we were on and toward our primary objective, the guns and missile batteries. It was then that Riley joined me along with the others. “Morning private!” 

“W-wheres the captain!?” I hadn’t appreciated how hard I was panting until that moment. 

I didn’t look at me and brushed off the query “Dead. Where are the guns?” We both poked our heads over the top and observed the two colossal gun turrets, left over from WW2 and multiple anti ship missile pods primed and ready. Riley also noticed the enemy attempting to dig in around them. “IF YOU GOT BAYONTS FIX EM NOW LADS AND LASSES! THIS IS GONNA GET PERSONAL!” Looking back it makes sense. Keep up the pressure and don’t let the enemy regroup or organise.

“We bot charging head on are we?” came a voice brimmed with dread. “AYE!” came the sergeants matter of fact reply leaving no room for debate. I drew both my revolver and bayonet, making a metallic sliding sound as it was pulled from its scabbard. “REMEMBRE WE GOT NO WHERE TO GO BUT FORWARDS!” were Riley's last words before he jumped over the ridge and charged, screaming and shouting like a savage. 

Watching the bullish scot charge had an immediate and strange affect as even the most hesitant threw caution to the wind and followed his example. Being part of a the charge, led by our bayonets and sergeant was surreal. Fear, doubt and tension all seemed to be projected from my body in a hellish, blood curdling scream. I didn’t care what may happen to me or what was happening elsewhere, all that mattered to me at that moment was an insatiable need to kill.

Even the hardest among the enemy must have crapped themselves at the sight of 500 plus, wolves, foxes, elephants and rhino’s, among others, assaulting down the gentle rise of the ridge towards them. They began firing hap haphazardly at the mass moving with increased speed and determination. But they’d waited too long. We slammed into the unprepared defenders in a berserk state. Hacking and slashing at anything even vaguely Russian looking or sounding. 

The howls of the dieing and terrified filled the air. When bayonets failed us, teeth and claws were used ripping flesh from bone and throats from necks. Megafauna trampled, and stopped many under foot, the victims organs being squeezed from their bodies like toothpaste as they desperately clawed at their killers legs. 

I don’t remember a great deal of what I got up to in that time. The red mist had descended and the 15 year old pup didn’t exist anymore. In his place was a mad savage monster who seemed to be fuelled by blood and pain. 

Something stopped me though. Not a blow or a stabbing pain but a breathless gasp. The blood red crimson curtains that blinded me were suddenly ripped from my gold eyes and laying on the muddy and icy ground, now covered with entrails and feces, was a snow leopardess with a fresh claw slash over her right eye. She was staring up at me, frozen in primal fear. The wound slowly dribbled gore down her cheek before it dropped to the ground. For a second I wondered where it had come from…until I saw my paws.

The fur below my elbows, once white furred paws and rust coloured arms, was dyed a solid and fresh satin colour complete with a bayonet that now belong in a slasher movie. There were splashes of the same liquid all over my uniform and the irony taste of blood filled my muzzle. 

Looking around myself there were 5 bodies. A raccoon, two deer another wolf and a ram all in various states of dismemberment. The wolf for example had been disembowelled and the raccoons throat had been ripped clean out. I may have never been to school but that didn’t mean I couldn’t put two and two together. The realisation shattered me making me freeze in place. Not even something major like the battle coming to its end and the guns being captured or destroyed, broke me from the stupor.

“Fuckin ell private. Remind me to stay on your good side” The jovial voice of Riley flew straight over my head. I began to retch and every last thing in my stomach came bubbling back up. Falling onto all 4’s tears mixed with the pool of vomit and gore making an unholy mixture that must have been considered a delicacy for the devil. The smell was abominable and made me want to start hurling again. All that went through my mind was ‘Please god no, please god don’t say I’m like them’ over and over again.

My breathing became manic and heart rate shot through the roof. I failed to notice the leopardess being led away under armed guard, or the satchels of high explosive being removed from around my neck, as the world narrowed to thin slits everything else being just an inky blackness. “Easy lad” that voice that minutes ago was the spitting image of a barbarian from the highlands, was now replaced by a soothing nurturing melody that was equal parts alien and calming. The gentle circle of a paw on my back also helped.

This went on for…awhile I don’t know exactly, My mind was elsewhere thinking about how I was now responsible for the butchery I was now kneeling in. But eventually my emotions were brought under control once more. Realising this the lion gently almost fondly asked, “What’s yeh name son?”


	3. Will the sun ever rise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the input on the last chapter.  
> Just encase I dont get the chance later I going to tell you now that on the 9th July I'll be going on basic training to join the army for 14 weeks. Needless to say I wont be uploading in that time but I will pick it up once my training is complete.  
> Hope you enjoy and thank you for your patience.

Will the sun ever rise?

 

“No sir, I will not abandon my tank! My gun is still working and I will get these bastards!”

Lt Arun Kehtarpal, Indian army, Final transmission from inside his burning tank, 15th December 1971.

 

With the anti ship batteries secured and the gates to Narvik wide open, the main landings went ahead. After some resistance a beachhead was established and the city, for the most part, was secured. However the rocky peaks surrounding it were still infested with large numbers of Russian and Norwegian allies determined to throw the enemy back into the sea. They began to build up around the Tjeldoy fort aiming to retake the lost guns . If they did they would cut off the beach head from resupply and reinforcements, worse they’d be able to fire into landed force back. The 16th meanwhile have no idea of the gathering storm.

 

Tjeldoy fort, Narvik, Norway: 27th of November 2008. 20:21 hours

 

A green glow lit up the snowy earth as the northern lights danced across the black and blue sky, flowing around and over the mountains before us. We gazed in silent awe as it seemed we were in the mother of all glass balls as water flowed over it. “Guess I can cross that off the bucket list”. Peterson admitted beside me, cigarette hanging from the oryx lips. I admit that I had always wanted to see the amazing natural spectacle but had always dismissed the idea as out of reach, guess there were some perks to my situation.

 

Felix Peterson was…different to say the least. His fur was a curios blend of white and black on his face while the rest of his body was muddy brown colour though that was only the start of it. “You believe in aliens goldy?” his helmet balancing on his knee.

 

I shrugged “Never put too much thought into it” It was true I’d always had other matters to tend to, mainly where my next meal was, to consider little green mammals in flying saucers. 

 

“What? Your kitting” the French Canadian laughed in disbelief. “How could you not think about it? Look up! A whole universe of wonders and mystery, unexplored and you’ve never thought about it?” I just shook my head. “Mon dieu”  

 

Water lapped up against the shore behind us and together with the sight above us created one of the most beautiful sights I, or indeed anyone, had ever seen. The only problem, cause there’s always a catch, was the weather. We were in a completely barren field with a thin layer of soil and grass that covered solid unforgiving granite. The few areas that weren’t made of solid rock were water filled bogs that would swallow a mammal in all his gear whole.   

 

The wind swept field we found ourselves in didn’t have anything to burn for heat so instead we took it in turns to stand watch. Those not on watch we able to go into one of the forts various buildings to stay warm. The temperature was only just below 0 but the wind had picked up and would come barrelling across the flat ground and then down into the trenches we occupied encircling us in an icy embrace. My thick fur protected me from the cold for the most part but only on the parts of my body it covered. Feeling the beginnings of frost bite on my nose I tucked my muzzle into the scarf currently rapped around my neck however the weather wasn’t what occupied my mind.

 

Instead the act of barbarism I had inflicted on 5 mammals that morning and nearly inflicted on the snow leopardess as well. She was locked up with several other prisoners in one of the secure bunkers. Safe from me. It wasn’t just the act itself that affected me so much but also the inescapable fact, that I enjoyed it. Even if I couldn’t remember it, I had enjoyed slicing those mammals up biting the life from them. The surge of power and pleasure that had flooded my mind just felt so damn good.  

 

I’d managed to clean the gore from my arms and paws in the fjord but the idea of rinsing my mouth out in the blood red water, with corpses still floating in it, nearly made me vomit again. Instead I’d solved that problem by melting a paw full of snow in my mouth and gargling it. It worked, after the 4th attempt, even if the taste of iron and bile stubbornly remained.

 

The blood on my uniform however had to remain as I couldn’t risk covering my self in water given the dropping temperature. I may not have liked being caked in the insides of five mammals but I hated hypothermia even more.

 

To try and take my mind off it I worked the action back and forth on my new toy, an L7A2 general purpose machine gun salvaged from one of the wrecked landing craft, insuring it didn’t freeze up. We’d spent the remainder of the day gathering up weapons and ammunition from the battlefield to replace our outdated equipment. Large numbers of AK-47 and AK-74’s were now in use as well as PKM machine guns while the best shots kept their bolt actions.

 

We’d spent hours practising with the new kit insuring we knew it inside and out, and would be able to use it even when being shot at. But as the light began to fail we settled in to our temporary home.

 

Now we sat freezing a our tails off waiting for first light when we’d be re-enforced by fresh troops. “Looks like a quiet night eh” Felix, bless him, tried to strike up conversation but my head was still elsewhere.      

 

“Um-hmm” Honestly I just wished to be left alone until my watch ended and I could go inside and warm my extremities up again.

 

The oryx sighed with a mixture of frustration and tiredness before he pulled a carton of cigarettes out and presented them to me. “Here” I went to protest only to have a cigarette thrust into my paw. “Take a god damn cigarette, your so depressing I want to hang myself” I placed the tobacco filled stick into my mouth as Felix pulled out his zippo lighter.

 

My first drag, but not my last by a long way, educed a small coughing fit as it burned the back of my throat. “Thanks” Despite the mild discomfort the forced deep breaths did the trick in getting my mind straight. My colleague went to speak again but a distant rumble, like that of timpani drums, had us looking forward.

 

White flashes could just be seen over the peaks of the mountains as a thousand heavy goods trains came rushing towards us. The pair of us watched in bizarre fascination when countless small black objects were backlit against the lights above. The sound got louder and louder, almost as if an enemy force were screaming at us. So transfixed were we that it wasn’t until the last minute that both of us dropped into the granite lined trench.

 

Skull shattering explosions came thick and fast. One followed by the other, splitting the earth beneath Thor's hammer blows. Rock splitters bounced off my helmet, the metallic ping ringing in my ears as the sound waves forced air in and out of my lungs. The shallow trench may have been cold, wet, unsightly and as likely to cut you as a scouser after a bad football match, but at that very moment I wanted to marry the fucking thing…kind of like my first girlfriend now I mention it.

 

Anyway, the ruckus outside had obviously alerted everyone as during the lull between salvo they all came rushing out towards their preallocated positions. Most however dived to the floor as a second salvo pounded our positions, those that didn’t were thrown in all directions or turned to confetti limbs and organs flying through the air.

 

The barrage went on and on. Ivan obviously thought he could blast us from our new home but the make up of the ground meant that we could just hunker down and wait for the storm to pass. Though a few direct hits were scored into our trenches for the most part we were left unaffected…physically at any rate. The first I realised it had stopped was when all I could hear was my own heavy breathing. With the utmost caution I slowly peeked over the parapet.

 

A few stray shells had me flinching as yet more debris pelted my face. My ears, jutting through the holes in my helmet, pointed straight up in an attempt to hear something, besides the ringing. A uncountable number of dark, spectral shapes advanced forward towards us down from the high ground. They were trying to be sneaky, hoping the barrage would keep us hunkered down but as it later turned out there had been a brake down in communications causing the artillery to stop early.

 

To the 15 year old me though it looked utterly ridiculous. Hundreds of mammals attempting to remain undetected while advancing over pristine white snow lit up by the heavens above. We watched them slowly move down towards us before Riley found us and in a harsh whisper “What are you cock stands doing? Get in position!” He then disappeared back down the trench, staying low so as not to be seen. The pair of us grabbed our respective weapons flicking off the safeties.

 

You know what the worst part of war is? Waiting. You know that in the next few seconds you will be thrown into the closest thing to hell mammal kind can produce, and you know that you will be forced to perform the greatest evils one person can do to another. If you had a choice you’d run…but you don’t. So you stay, and wait.

 

The wind whistled picking up snow and dust disturbed by the shells, blowing it across the field as our breath condensed in front of us, forming white clouds. Though in Peterson’s case it was probably the cigarette rather than the temperature. My pulse drummed in my ears as I repositioned the gun in my shoulder to get comfortable.

 

With a whistle blast we let rip. White hot tracers lit up the shapes in front of us as a hail of automatic fire raked from left to right and back again. We couldn’t hear them but you watched as the silhouettes of mammals changed to dark heaps in the snow. Some dived to the ground while others slowly sunk down never to rise again.  

 

The fact I couldn’t hear them coupled with their nebulous appearance meant I had no issue unloading my weapon into them. Or tried too I wasn’t the best of shots back then and this was the first time I’d fired a weapon in anger. They weren’t mammals just targets making my job easy.

 

For a short time at least. Ivan seemed to fix the communication issues as one again deep booms came from the mountains. Quickly followed by a roar and chest thumbing explosions. “INCOMING!!” This time a mixture of smoke and white phosphorus were combined with high explosive in a devastating bombardment. The black dots disappeared behind the plumes of white smoke as anguished, terrified screams rose from our trenches.

 

The mammals in the MG nest to our left leapt from their position engulfed in flames. Screaming in agony one desperately rolled on the floor trying to extinguish the flames as his skin slowly melted and his eye balls boiled in their sockets. The other stood on the parapet frozen in fear, watching as her body was slowly consumed, until a shell put both out their misery causing both to disappear in a red mist. “BLACKWELL!” the Scottish lion appeared behind me “SHOOT DAMN IT!!”

 

I could feel the panic begin to rise like a flood from my gut towards my brain. “AT WHAT?!” I started to pant the despair evident.

 

He grabbed me by the collar before roaring, and I do mean roaring, directly into my face. “AT THE FUCKING SMOKE!” After throwing me back at the gun he and Felix went looking for more ammunition. The fear, together with the order from the larger predator had me firing wildly into the smoke. Maybe I hit maybe I didn’t. Either way the act gave me something to focus on and get my mind under control.

 

The coordination between the Russian infantry and their big guns was impressive to say the least. Just as their front rank began to appear through the smoke a fresh screen would be placed between us and them. It slowly advanced ever forward, our tracers disappearing into it yet failing to stop it. I ducked down again at another close artillery hit, throwing yet more crap over me. As I reemerged once again to squeeze the trigger, only to be met with silence.

 

The bloody thing jammed. I frantically pulled on the charging handle trying to work the dud round through the gun, but it wasn’t having any of it. “Come on. COME ON!” Thinking straight wasn’t possible. My mind had completely given into the hysteria flowing within me.

 

Though a very heavy sounding and alarmingly close thud snapped my head to the right. A hulking moose had jumped into the trench next to me. The extremely pissed off expression told me he wasn’t in the mood to take prisoners. For the briefest of seconds we regarded each other, my bulging, golden eyes looking directly into his chocolate brown, blood lust hazed once. Then screaming like a psychopath he lunged at me with his bayonet.

 

Normally a wolf like me would last too long in a strength test against a moose. But when put into a life and death situation you’d be amazed what your body can do. Clutching the muzzle of the rifle, the point of the blade kissing my chest, I was able to hold the brute a bay. Pushed up against the trench wall my joints locked as he attempted to run me through. My assailant wasn’t happy with this turn of events. He doubled his efforts, putting all his weight into the thrust.

 

Slowly the weapon began descending. The tip broke the skin, a small trail of blood running down my chest, and I swear I felt my heart press up against the point with each frantic beat. Getting desperate I stopped breathing praying to whatever deity there maybe that someone would come to my aid. But my strength began to fail as it seemed this would be it.

 

The sudden loss of pressure on my body had my eyes flying open. It was Felix. Currently in engaged in cracking the skull of my would be killer, wielding his rifle like a improvised club. The moose struggled to get up but each time he did the butt of the rifle would come down again. The onyx kept swinging until the Russians head resembled a casserole, with chunks of brain matter and skull spread around the floor and walls of the trench.

 

Both of us were taking harsh breaths as a result of our ordeals. My head fell back with a metallic thud as my helmet made contact with the granite behind me. Each muscle in my upper body was on fire. It was almost as if I’d managed to rip them from the bone in my efforts to stay alive. My rest however was short lived. “Get up John! We got more of em comin!” Peterson was right the battle was still raging.

 

But Riley had that covered.

 

“MENACE 15, THIS IS SABRE 4, REQUESTING FIRE MISSION ON TARGET MIKE, X-RAY, FIRE FOR EFFECT!, OVER!”

 

A slightly distorted response cracked from the radio. “Affirmative Sabre, Rounds incoming, Hold on tight, Out.” The radio wasn’t joking as this time the deep boom and flashes of light came from behind us as the mighty Mo’s 16 inchers split the sky. The awesome power of the guns reverberated around the fjord, almost as if Thor himself had been disturbed from his slumber and decided to take out his anger on the earth. Holes the size and depth of swimming pools were ripped into the rock throwing debris and bodies high into the air.

 

We watched wide eyed and slack jawed as an elephant was picked up and discarded like a chocolate wrapper. Limbs and blood began raining from the sky, peppering the parapet and trenches below with sickening splats. The pair of us actually had to duck into cover lest we be hit by a falling lump of flesh and bone. The noise was indescribable.

 

Then, silence.

 

An eerie calm, in stark contrast to a few seconds earlier, descended broken only by Riley and the radio “Menace 15, this is Sabre 4, good effect on target, that stopped em, Over”

 

“Roger that Sabre 4, Out” The last of the dust began to settle and the black shapes began to get up and move back up the hills from where they’d come from. Others began to writhe and slowly roll on the floor as the first groans reached our ears.

 

I cautiously turned to the sergeant. “Think they’ll be back?” I still had a lot to learn at the time.

 

Riley turned to me and with a full toothy grin laughed. “Aye”  


	4. Sinking feeling, Rising resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! and Just when you thought it was safe...er.
> 
> First let me appologise for my long absence but I'm back and will be aiming to release a new chapter each week as I was doing before.  
> Secondly my extended disappearance had allowed me to go back over and evaluate both this story and ghosts and...yeh. I have come to the conclusion that ghosts needs a bit of reworking. I was hoping to avoid taking it down to do this but that is looking more and more unlikely. But dont worry it wont vanish forever.  
> Anyway I wont keep you any longer. Thx for your patience.
> 
> PS. I may be a little rusty.

”Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.”

Charles R. Swindoll, Author

More Russian counter attacks followed through out the following days but all failed due in no small part to the heavy guns of the allied fleet. Seeing this Russian commanders change tactics and focus their attention on the ships located off shore. Every available aircraft and artillery piece is ordered to attack the warships and transports located at the mouth of the fjord while mobile anti ship missiles are installed along its southern banks. Meanwhile poor weather and communication confusion prevents reinforcements reaching the Tjeldoy fortress. Backed into a corner some decide the best form of defence is attack.

Tjeldoy fort, Narvik, Norway: 1st December 2008. 10:43 Hours

Ah sleep. They say that you never realise how much you love something until its gone. Yeah sleep is pretty high on that list, at least for me anyway. Laying in my fox hole I was floating on clouds of tranquillity, gun smoke and, something furry under my head. It wasn’t perfect. I still froze my tail off and something in either my webbing or from the floor of the trench was murdering my back but, to put it mildly, I was too fucked to care anymore. 

Ivan had been persistent over the past week. When they weren’t battering us with high explosive and shrapnel they came down from the mountains led by their bayonets with nothing but their courage, or insanity, to protect them. Their favourite method was to combine the two and add the cover of darkness. We found ourselves becoming nocturnal but terrified of the monsters, both real and imaginary, that emerged in the moonlit hours. Didn’t help that there was only 2 hours of daylight at that time of year.

However the night of the 31st had been quiet. No attacks, no artillery hell they hadn’t even shouted at us. Knowing what I know now it isn’t too difficult to figure out the Ruskies where up to something. Hindsights fantastic isn’t it? 

“ENEMY AIRCRAFT!”

“Fuck sake” My enjoyment of the first real sleep I’d had in days was interrupted however as a migraine inducing screech of multiple turbo jets echoed down the fjord. Sirens blared out their high pitched wail as every set of paws, hooves and feet scrambled for cover. Despite my exhaustion in an instant I was awake, alert and more than a little pissed off. Though I was as safe as I was going to get in my MG nest. Drill was the same as when they dropped artillery on us, get as low to the ground as possible, cover your head and hope you didn’t get hit.

I didn’t even open my eyes. Why bother? If I was lucky they’d miss. If not I’d never see or even feel anything anyway. 

The roar rose to a true eardrum bursting level. Odin’s anguished cry howled up the valley, then Shot clean over our heads like a swarm of angry hornets. Yet as they catapulted past us no explosions followed in their wake. Cracking an eye open I stared in muted awe at the swarm of angry jets passing at breakneck pace over us. They were so low I could feel the heat and thrust of their engines and the smell of jet fuel began to mix with the gun smoke of the battles before.

It took about a minute but I did eventually realise that we weren’t the target. Relief flooded over me as I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding and my eyes began to slide shut again, my adrenaline supply shut off once more. Finally we weren’t the target and, as horrible as it is to say, it felt good to have someone else being shot at.

That was until my brain got involved. “Uhh John? John? Were are those jets heading?”

“Well, the bay” came my sarcastic inner monologue.

If its possible for your own head to sound annoyed at you then it did at that moment “Yes very good. And what is in said bay?”

“Just the allied….Shit” Shooting up my head appeared just above the parapet. The jets swooped in to the attack, some hit by anti air fire causing them to explode into fire balls, careening out of the sky and slamming into the frigid waters below. The low altitude and close range meant the ships relied on traditional flack guns, filling the sky with innocent looking black puffs of smoke. But trying to hit something moving that fast with a traditional gun is…challenging.

Ships began to explode from bomb and rocket hits. The Russians used a bizarre technique of skipping their bombs like pebbles across the surface of the water and through the side of transports and frigates. But most aircraft focused on the biggest ship present. The USS Missouri, our savour from the nights before was a sitting duck as the jets pressed the attack.

The enemy stayed for no more than 10 minutes, bombing and strafing the ships anchored in the fjord. But by the end of it the mighty Mo was ablaze from stem to stern, her ammunition cooking off blasting house sized plates of steel in all directions. The pressure wave punched the air from my lungs and helmet from my head. She survived world war 2 and the cold war, but she couldn't withstand Russian bombs. The magnificent ship slowly sank into the fjord the stars and strips still fluttering atop her mast to the sounds of creaking, snapping metal…and a snort? 

Through all of this the massive explosions and booming jets, Felix had slept like a fucking puppy. He was still snoring for crying out loud! His head back, long sleek tongue lolling around like a pair of snooker balls in a rugby sock. 

“Felix?” Nothing. I starred, flabbergasted at him. “Oi dick merchant!” Still nothing. It was then I noticed his canteen sitting on top of an empty grenade box and, well I hadn’t been for a piss all night. I’ll let you fill in the blanks. Sergeant Riley did see me however and my heart stopped for a moment. The lion glanced at Peterson. Then back to me. I was about to say something, don’t really know what, until he gave a knowing smile and walked away, innocently whistling.

With his canteen ‘topped up’ I had one final look at the snow covered mountains bathed in a warm glow courtesy of the sun clawing at the horizon. Norway is one of the most beautiful places on earth, even better when nothings on fire or exploding and the tranquil scene soon had my eyes falling closed again, once again surrounded by relative silence. Only the occasional burst of machine gun fire in the distance and crackling from burning fires and destroyed ships.

Until the distant rumble of artillery guns and whistle of shells once more filled the air. “Fuck” 

2 Hours later

My foot falls echoed through the miles of reinforced concrete tunnels and bunkers dug into the Norwegian rock. A slight clatter, and hum coming from the ventilation system providing us with stale filtered air mixed with distant shouting from up ahead. The air so thick with dust, body odour and tobacco smoke you almost needed a gas mask to get through your day, and a light haze could be seen in the light. Light provided by fluorescent bulbs encased in metallic cages and fixed to the top the tunnel. They bathed our subterranean world in a fake, dirty yellow and orange glow similar to a deserted motorway at 3 in the morning. Except with no fresh air. 

These unforgiving concrete snakes slithered under the surface of the earth for miles. Deep enough to keep the, stores, hospital and barracks built into the fort safe from even the biggest artillery pieces. All the while the only things above ground where the 4 titanic gun turrets, each one housing 3 massive 15 inch guns. I’d been called down here by Riley for security reasons. 

We’d fished many of the crew from the Missouri out of the fjord. Battered, bruised and burned many were a lost cause. But the officers had immediately tried taking over command. Naturally Riley and Lieutenant-Colonel Wittelsbach weren't happy with this. And as I moved towards the HQ bunker, shouts and insults began to reach my ears…most in a Scottish accent. 

Why had I been called down to help? No idea. Rogers and Nashorn were better fits for intimidation what with them being rhinos and both being in their mid twenties. Me? Although I’ve always been tall at the time I wasn’t especially big. Then again maybe my slasher act a week ago meant Riley valued me more if a fight did actually break out. And slipping into the room that seemed more likely than not.

Sergeant Riley was in a bile spiting rage “Your nothing but a bunch of boy lovin...” 

The ram opposite cut him off obviously not amused by where Edward had been going “Wittelsbach would keep your subordinate under control!”

There were 6 or 7 officers there, mostly navy though the arguing seemed to be going back and forth between Riley and a Spotty, horned ram stood on opposite sides of a planning table. I didn’t even realise sheep could have spots. There uniforms, usually immaculate and highly polished, looked as if they’d been dragged through a bush then had a cheese grater taken to them. Somehow they looked worse than us.

Wittelsbach was the commander of the battalion and had much more the traditional officer about him than Riley ever could. “I will. As long as you remember I’m the one in charge” The reindeer, lazily reclining in his chair with his feet up, spoke with a determined, hard voice though I did see a twitch in his lips. Whether he was angry or amused I don’t know.

The Rams eye twitched “If you think for one second I’m taking orders from a bunch of savages, your mad!” It was then he noticed us, his face displayed confusion and no small amount of worry as he did a double take. “Whats this?”

Wittelsbach stood from his chair and strode over towards the table. “Security” He said innocently.

The ram regarded us “Are you trying to intimidate me?” the indignance in his voice clear.

“Seems to be working” Riley chuckled. The ram just narrowed his eyes at the lion. 

The reindeer cleared his throat refocusing attention on him as he turned to a large map mounted on the wall. “Now back to the business at hoof. Reconnaissance has located large numbers of artillery and anti ship missiles located here” He pointed to a location just over the ridge of mountains I’d been staring at for a week. The stunningly detailed map seemed to show every little divot and dip in the ground and was criss crossed by red marker displaying all the latest information. “Now we are sitting in a fort with 12 large calibre artillery guns, with ammunition. All we need are crews”

“That’s were we come in” A female polar bear, up to now silent spoke from across the room to which the Lieutenant-Colonel just nodded.

But the ram wasn’t done it seemed as he remarked almost gleefully “Well that's not true is it? We still need spotters and I don’t see anyone volunte…”

“I’ll do it” Every eye in the room was suddenly focused on me. A mixture of surprise and realisation in most of them as if they had only just noticed the young wolf stood next to the hulking rhinos. 

“You?” The ram spoke in disbelief. I nodded. “How old are you?” He laughed out.

“15 Sir”

This only caused the ram to laugh harder. “So, so we’re sending kits now to do a mammals job?” 

“Yet I’m the one volunteering” I snarked back at the pompous git as Riley tried, and failed, to suppress an amused snort.

Calling out the size of his mammal hood seemed to sober him up quickly. But Wittelsbach stepped in before the conversation got side tracked…again. “Are you sure?”

I took a minute to reconsider. But came to the same conclusion. The Russians would just keep shelling or bombing us until we were all dead or the fleet was at the bottom of the fjord. And at any rate I was tired of being used for target practice. “I’m sure sir”. 

The resolution in my voice and eyes must have been clear as he took a few seconds to evaluate me before ordering “Assemble a team, grab your gear and get to it private”

Standing to attention I barked “Yes sir” with a crisp salute.


	5. Unlikely ally

Impossible is a word to be found only in the dictionary of fools.  
\- Napoleon Bonaparte, Letter to General Jean Le Marois

The situation is becoming critical as the allied fleet has been forced by air and land based attacks into the open sea. This left the landed forces in and around Narvik cut off from supplies of food and ammunition. In response a small team slips out of the Tjeldoy fortress and advances through the mountains aiming to destroy as much as possible. It is the first command for a young private and his first mission with a certain snow leopard. 

Somewhere near Narvik, Norway: 1st December 2008. 14:23 Hours

Wind blasted down the mountain pass picking up snow spraying it square into our faces. Its howl masked the crunch and crack as each set of feet made contact with the powder beneath us as well as a the slight grumbling coming from the others. Our only source of light was the moon and stars above, as the sun had already set an hour ago, though an occasional explosion from Narvik would light up the world around us. With the snow knee deep Felix and I had to carry our smaller colleagues on our backs and it was now I was thankful Riley lent me his rifle. 

My first command. Seems kind of insignificant now but we all have to start somewhere. We where a 5 mammal blip on the pristine white earth consisting of me, Peterson, a skunk called Nixon, our radio mammal Nutty a red Squirrel. What? Blame his parents not me. 

But the most surprising member of our group was our guide a Snow leopard. The same one who nearly lost an eye to me. She was shorter than me but her heavier muscle mass and thicker fur made up for this. A bandage wrapped around the right side of her face covering the injury I’d given her. Unlike us she wore lighter clothing obliviously use to harsh Russian winters not to mention her species natural cold resistance. 

We had maps of course but I decided this whole thing would be a lot easier if we had a basic idea of how to pick our way through the mountain passes and avoid unwanted attention. So I, on a whim, asked if any of the POWs wanted to volunteer. I didn’t actually think any of them would actually put a paw up and yet she had, even if it was hesitantly. Why had she agreed to help? 

I peered over my shoulder at the skunk riding on my back “Hey Nix? What did you say her name was?” His answer was muffled behind the scarf rapped around his muzzle. “Pardon?”

Nixon sharply yanked the rag away before quickly answering “Sasha Kuznetsova, and why the fuck you care?” Did I forget to mention there was a slight hitch in my plan. She knew absolutely no English and that was why the arsehole on my back was with us. 

“Just tryin to stay on her good side” I chuckled.

“Why bother? You nearly took the Russian bitch’s eye out” He spat down my ear.

I wiped the saliva from my aural appendage “This is why no one likes you Pete, well that and the smell” 

“Ha fucking ha” 

Sasha was leading the way. Her specialised paws and light equipment load meant she glided over the snow while we had to trudge our way through. She stopped at a split in the valley, where a narrow and very steep path led up the wall. She Inspected the area as if going through a check list; the trees at the side of the valley, the sheer craggy walls on either side of us, even the fresh snow she stood on. Finally she turned to look over our heads and back down towards the fort and she finally seemed satisfied. The snow leopard began making her way up the path beckoning us to follow her.

However we stayed where we were as I pulled a map from my pocket. We didn’t trust her for obvious reasons and I wanted to be sure we weren’t being led in the wrong direction. What the map told me made my eyes narrow in suspicion. According to our map the path she was leading us up didn’t exist. The leopardess had turned round and seeing us standing there seemed irritated as she again beckoned us up the path again. We stayed where we were.

“Nix, ask her where this path goes.” My eyes never leaving her.

The skunk did as I ordered and as she answered she began to get increasingly skittish. Her head snapping back and forth between us and where she wanted us to go, paws flailing around. “She says it leads to a ledge overlooking the entire valley.” He sounded sceptical. I spared a glance up the path. It wasn’t quite vertical but it looked like we’d be closer to climbing rather than walking until it disappeared over the top of the ridge. Covered in ice and incredibly muddy it was debatable if we’d even get to the top. “Should I tell her to go fuck herself or do you wanna shoot her and get it over with?” The skunk gleefully asked down my ear.

In my previous life I learnt to follow my gut instinct. Why? Because what ever my conscious mind missed my unconscious didn’t. It kept me out of any unnecessary trouble and now it came in handy once again. Something about her told me she was telling the truth and to follow her. Maybe it was her expansive chocolate eye or her very submissive body language. Either way my mind was made up “Lead on miss” My paw gesture got the point across.

I could feel all eyes fall on me as I replaced the map and began to follow her. “Are you serious!?” Nixon shrieked.

“Yeh John, I’m with Pete on this” Felix called after me “You think we can trust her?”

Glancing over my shoulder I noticed he was slowly lowing his weapon, ‘Guess that explains her nervousness’, “No more than anyone else” The others shared a sceptical look and reluctantly followed while Nixon continued whinging. I mercifully managed to tune him out. 

Rocks and ice crumbled under us as we clambered up the steep slope. A light snow fall began making the already slick, muddy path even more dangerous “Long way down” Nutty remarked nervously. 

Whatever Felix was about to say was lost as a barrage of mud and rock hit the pair of us in the face. The sound of frantic scrambling came from above us. I looked up just in time to see Sasha sliding straight for me. Digging my feet and paws in I readied for the impact. I could feel the skunk on my back attempting to scurry out of the way. But he had no where to go.

The large feline slammed into me, my legs almost buckling under the force. The mud under them giving way. We where sliding. My claws extended automatically trying to grasp at anything. Sasha’s paws went to her side and did like wise. Just as I felt the earth beneath my paws begin to fall away my feet stopped. The ground hardened, and we froze. We dare not move encase once again we began our descent. Sasha and I stared at each other, our breath fogging before us in deep nervous breaths. 

A blush slowly crept up the snow leopards face. It took me a minute but after a second my face did the same, only much much more vivid. My face had ended up pressed against her...um...crotch with her legs draped over my shoulders...awkward doesn't cover it. 

The pair of us stayed frozen, despite the melting heat coming from our faces, just staring into each others eyes. Gold met chocolate as we tried to figure out a way to untangle ourselves without further embarrassment. Something Felix really wasn’t helping with “Now I see why you want to follow her”. His sniggering stopped when Sasha gave him a look that could freeze hell. 

“Heh, ok, lets...just forget...this….yeh?” I tried to get things moving, as the combined weight of me, Nixon and Sasha was starting to have an affect on my legs...It was either that or the smell of fertile female seeping through her trousers. After a somewhat awkward movement the snow leopard was now standing on my shoulders and once again began to ascend.

It was then the irritating little shit on my back piped up again. “Hey black? Nice to see you brought some extra ‘firepower’” pointing down towards my belt.

“ugh” 

“What? Don’t tell me your ‘Knot’ interested” Smug bastard.

Reaching the top of the ridge, where the path disappeared from sight, there was a perfectly flat oval shaped ledge. Easily big enough to fit all of us. We had a perfect panoramic view from the fjord and fort behind us, to Narvik on our right and all the way to Sweden to our front. Above the Northern lights began appearing in the night sky bathing us in a warm glow. I was about to stand but Sasha yanked me down again, the sudden move causing Nixon to nose dive off my shoulders and plant himself head first in the snow.

She directed us to stay low and crawl to the lip of the platform, while Nixon's legs kick fruitlessly in the air with muffled cursing coming from below. Reaching the lip we were met by a mass of Russian activity in the valley below us. Scurrying shadows, trucks and tanks. Artillery thundering away at some unknown target while Jets taxied and took off. An entire base and supply dump and all ready for an early Christmas present, or several.

“Wow” I muttered while patting our guide on the back. She just nodded somberly then crawled to look in the other direction. “Nutty your up, make it count.” The squirrel hoped off Felix’s back, took out his binoculars and dialled up his radio. 

Peterson for his part was busy with Nixon. “Language Timothy” This started another barrage of cursing. I swear that skunk could make a sailor blush. 

Minutes past yet nothing happened. The hike had kept us relatively warm now we’d stopped and the wind had picked up again driving the light snow into our faces. Up on the platform exposed and with a very large enemy presents nearby was starting to effect us. “Nutty, why aren't things exploding?” Felix was starting to shiver and his nerves began to appear in his voice.

“Their still learning how to use the bloody guns.” the squirrel replied clearly aggravated. 

“H-how difficult can it be?” 

While they bickered and jabbed at each other my attention fell on Sasha. She had be sitting by herself while a barrage of emotions played out across her rugged yet feminine features. Can’t really blame her. With this act she was committing an act of treason and the Russians had a reputation for making mammals disappear...mind you so does every government at some stage. I wanted to talk to her telling myself that its what any mammal would do. Though really I just wanted to insure she didn’t run off or attack us before the strike could take place. No doubt the wait was torture for her. 

“Nutty get on the radio and tell them if their not ready in the next 5 minutes we’re heading back.” I sounded strange to my own ears let alone everyone else. Forceful, direct...angry. The three around me all shred a surprised look, clearly not used to this side of me.

Though Nixon couldn’t stay quiet. “Look who found his balls all of a sudden” he mocked.

“Problem?” my steely gaze complete with calm voice made his white stripes grow as he spluttered a response. “Then shut it” Nutty relayed the message clearly not enjoying being between a rock and a hard place. Even the sound of laughter coming through the radio after he informed them I was responsible for the out burst, didn’t seem to calm him. 

After a laughing fit, from who I assume was Riley, Nutty called it in. “Sabre 4, this is Sabre 5, fire mission, target X-ray, multiple targets, Fire for effect, over” The batteries behind us roared to life, as if the fort itself was screaming in fury at those who had dared to try and harm her. The deadly black dots howled over our heads and seconds later huge towers of snow and earth shot skyward. Flames lit up the base below us as tanks were thrown into the air and mammals ran for cover, many of whom simply disappeared.

Did it feel good. Oh hell yes. When a shell hit the fuel dump, sending burning oil and fuel over those black shapes and their screams of fear and agony reached us, I started to quietly giggle. “Burn you little shits” The heat was so intense I could feel the fur on my face singe but I didn’t care. I was enjoying myself too much. the others watched in muted awe at the display of power and destruction, though Nixon did have a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. Sasha had her fingers in her ears, eye closed and the flash of one explosion twinkled in her silent tears. 

“Sabre 4, this is sabre 5, adjustment, up 100, left 20, over” Nutty kept giving adjustments to the gunners insuring as much of the base in front of us was hit as possible. Raking back and forth over until the only thing left in that valley was fire, smoke and mangled meat. Shorn, twisted and shattered metal together with the melted snow and ice. 

“Sabre 4, this is Sabre 5, good effect on target, out. They wont bother anyone any more”


	6. When the winged Hussars arrive!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys but here is chapter 6 hope you enjoy.  
> As always if you have tips, Ideas for the story or just spot a cock up in the story dont hesitate to tell me.

Soldiers willingly, sometimes foolishly, risk their own lives to keep their comrades out of enemy hands. -  
Alex Berenson

The battle for Narvik continued for another month but the situation had stabilised with both sides exhausted by near constant fighting. The small raid from the Tjeldoy fortress destroyed a Russian base and supply dump, successfully halting the Russian air attacks long enough to allow HMS Ark royal to arrive. By January however everything changed. The remnants of the Swedish and Finnish armies had been defending the port of Kirkenes in the north and the Hanko peninsular in the south of Finland. Seen as unimportant the Russians had left them with only as small force to besiege the pockets. However on new years eve Western landings reinforced both pockets and shattered the Russian defences. The Russian armies in Scandinavia suddenly found themselves in danger of being cut off and the Russian 26th, and elements of the 90th armies begin to move towards Sweden in an effort to escape but they don’t realise the 400 remaining mammals of the 16th are waiting for them, guarding the only bridge to safety. Their orders are simple. Hold. The. Bridge. 

Bjørnfjell, Swedish/Norwegian border, 6th January 2009, 09:29 hours

Orders had arrived late the day before. Using our guide, Sasha, we were to advance through the mountains and set up defences at the Bjørnfjell bridge. Arriving in the middle of the night we’d spent our time digging, sandbag packing and getting ready. I and the others weren’t told how many Russians were coming our way. Just as well. If they had we’d have found somewhere else to be. Hey you remember that ram I mentioned earlier? The pompous prick who’d been arguing with Riley and I’d snubbed? Yeh turns out that was admiral Bellwether, yes the father of that Bellwether. Wonder if hatred of preds runs in the family? Hmm.

I’m getting distracted. The mission was clearly a suicidal one, and I bet Bellwether had volunteered us, but we’d taken precautions. A small group had been left at the fort manning one of its gun turrets. Guns that big could prove useful. The battlefield was a sea of gently rolling hills made up of shattered boulders and ice, split in the middle by a fast flowing glacial river. 

Peterson and I were on the right on a slightly raised craggy hill overlooking the bridge. My ‘gimpy’ pointed squarely at it. The bridge itself was unremarkable being a simple, two lane bridge made of reinforced concrete spanning 50 meters.

We’d spent the night building up our little nest but digging was pointless as you’d go down half a foot then hit solid rock. Instead we’d rolled boulders around the shallow hole then filled the gaps with sand bags. It wasn’t perfect but it would do. Our rocky hole was indicative of the battalion with scrape trenches and shallow fox holes doing little to fortify our nerves.

“How long are they gonna take?” We’d been listening to the thumping of thousands of feet coming from the opposite bank for several minutes. The distinctive sound of an army retreating. Rather than the distinctive and easy to follow rhythmic thumping it was out of time and disorganised. It was accompanied by the rumbling growl of engines and teeth grinding squeak of caterpillar tracks. These sounds bounced off the boulders of the broken plain we were in. The weather was depressingly dull almost as if the world had given up trying to reason and had given into the simple fact mammals of all shapes and sizes were about to engage in mass murder.

“You’d think they’d be in a hurry” Felix concurred. “Morning Sergeant.”

Riley, who’d been going from hole to hole making sure everyone was ready if not willing, slid in next to us. “Ye’right lads?”

The pair of us shared a dubious look before I spoke. “Tired, hungry and cold count as alright?”

“he he, does round here. Now listen up, Blackwell your shot will the signal for everyone else so make it a good one” 

For the first time my eyes left that bridge. “Why me?” 

“Cause ye have a brain” He chuckled slinking off.

You should have seen Felix’ face. His jaw virtually dropped off his head. “A compliment? How well can you suck dick?.” he joked.

Now normally I would have rebuked the idea. But this was Felix he’d been taking the piss for far to long “Wanna find out?” flashing a wolfish, tooth filled grin. 

He went white and I mean pure, snow white “B-B-But your not even 16”

I kept tightening the screws “That wasn’t a noooo, besides I’m only one year below legal” 

“Fuck off I’m not going down for a minor” the horror was, so exquisite.

“Bet you would for a major” Oh it felt good to finally get one up on Joker. I was having to fight to keep the giggles in.

His face twisted to one of revulsion. “Your fucking sick you know that?” 

I couldn’t hold it anymore. For the first time in a long time I was full on belly laughing. I even started snorting. After, what, 2 minutes? I finally got a grip managing to wipe a tear from both eyes. “ehe. ehe. Oh Jesus Mary and Joseph” 

“You finished?” He sounded thoroughly annoyed.

Still giggling I answered “Just about. I wasn’t serious mate”

Glancing over dubiously. “You say that now.” There was a short pause. “Piggy”

My giggling fit lasted for a bit longer but when it finally subsided I noticed movement ahead. The lip of the road was moving. “Their here”

We both got ready flicking the safeties off and charging our weapons. “Thank god for that” I snorted at his remark but during our ‘chat’ the sounds of a retreating army had reached terrifying levels. They marched 5 a breast up the two lane road some having thrown their weapons away. Most had their heads low, dragging their feet and looked generally despondent. “H-how many did they say there were?”

“They didn’t” I couldn’t take my eyes off that massive, swarming mass of mammals.

Despite the mass moving in front of us, with the thumping of their feet and clank of buckles, The silence was...indescribable as the first rank reached the bridge. It was the type that unnerves even the strongest. No civvie can understand it. As they were crossing some seemed to sense something was wrong beginning to look around nervously. There was one, a Rhino who couldn’t have been older than me. His horn hadn’t surfaced completely yet and his vibrant green eyes kept darting this way and that. 

At one point he looked me dead in the eyes. “Stop looking at me” I unintentionally muttered, lining my sight up with his chest. He kept staring. As if he’d seen me. “Stop it” I’d began to growl. Still he kept eye contact. I remember his face so easily. The small notch in his horn, the birth mark beneath his left nostril and the obvious terror. 

“Take the shot Black” The column had reached the half way point now. But I was still focused on the rhino...till he suddenly stopped. Did he see me? Doesn't matter. I gave him a burst, probably longer than I should, and he crumpled up into a bloody pile. There was the briefest expression of pain before his face disappeared from view. 

“FIRE!”

Our line erupted if a furious series of white flashes. Poor sods. Packed in like sardines on a barren bridge with those in the middle and at the front completely unable to go anywhere. Some became so desperate they jumped from the bridge into the ice filled waters below. Very few came back up and the one’s that did where washed down stream. 

After 30 seconds it was all over. Scores of dead and dyeing now littered that bridge. The once that could began crawling back to their side only to be picked off one by one. Amazingly that rhino stood up again. Blood drooling from his mouth and his hands covered in blood from a gunshot to the stomach. He raised those blood stained hands as high as he could before limping towards us. 

He, he was crying trying to speak but all that came out where gabbled gasps. I gave him another burst. I didn’t think twice. This time when he fell he didn’t move again. Why I here you ask? I-I’ve…I’ve asked myself that many times. Still don’t have a reason. Other than blind anger.

“Good work, but they’ll be back” Riley called.

17:00 hours

Oh they came back alright. And they were pissed.

White hot lead whizzed and cracked around our position. Some of the enemy had dug into the opposite bank and where laying down affective fire. My helmet had already taken several ricochets. The sound of metal hitting metal making my teeth ache as the guns from the fortress pounded road out of view. We couldn’t call them in near the bridge itself encase we destroyed it. 

Burning, smouldering tank wrecks covered the bridge with other hulks rested atop or behind our trenches and fox holes. My machine gun was glowing red hot. Empty casings rattled off the solid floor and smoke billowed as stray snow and sleet landed on the barrel. Peterson had gone for more ammunition as 7 empty boxes already decorated our nest. It was as I got to the bottom of my 8th he finally returned “Got a present Piggy” Felix had already got back twice for me. “Better make em count. These are the last two boxes”

I was already feeding the new belt in “Noted. And that is NOT becoming my nickname” He just laughed. 

The dreaded rumble came from down the road. “THEIR SENDING TANKS AGAIN! T80’s!” Someone called as the first beast came into view. That monstrous gun. It was like a fucking telegraph pole and the sound of it firing was enough to move air in and out of your lungs. “MENENDEZ ROCKET THAT FUCKING THING!” A few seconds past as it slowly advanced across the bridge spraying machine gun fire at us. “MENENDEZ!” 

A terrified screech rose above the infernal roar. “WE’RE OUT OF ROCKETS!” It was now over the bridge. “SHI-” Whoever it was having this chat we unceremoniously blow to pieces as the tank fired again. Ever heard of tank terror? Well after this battle I had a really bad case. The sound of grinding bone and crushed muscle will do that too you. A flurry of Molotov cocktails pelted the vehicle in an almost comical fashion. Drowning it in burning petrol and tar.

The tank began to kindle. Its engine coughed then shuddered and stopped, the flames taking hold. 

Russian infantry was now flooding across the bridge led by yet another tank. Every emotion was etched into their faces. Anger and hate blended with terror and desperation. The smoke coming from my overheating gun gave us away and the lumbering monster turned its gun towards us. The infantry with it also began to take a keen interest.

The first shell flew straight over our heads making us duck and I felt the fur on my ears singe. Stone splinters and ricocheting lead kept us down. Well kept me down anyway. “AHHHH!” My partners pain filled shriek made me look over while still staying low. Blood flowed freely down his face from his forehead. He didn’t look pained, but high. Like he’d just filled himself full of sedative.

“Joker?!” He just groaned as he slowly rolled around on the floor.

A second shell slammed into the ground just in front our position, throwing dirt and debris over us. “FELIX?!” More of the same. Dearing to peak over the parapet I could see scores of Russians now making it across the bridge. Many were falling just not enough to stop them.

As for the tank it was so close I Could smell the things fucking exhaust. The feeling of the ground shaking under it. Any sane person would have run. But Felix...he was my friend. The one light spot in this. I couldn’t leave him. 

Crawling over seeing one of his horns had been shot off. But not being medically trained I couldn’t tell more than that. I didn’t even have any bandages. He was become responsive though. Bringing a hoof up to clutch ad the wound. “Ah Shit” he moaned 

“FELIX! FELIX! We got to go!” Trying to haul him to his feet only to be reminded me why we were laying down in the first place. My helmet was shot off by a stream of bullets. And the tank fired a third shell. The concussive force throwing me to the floor. Oddly though the shell hadn’t been aimed at us. The thing reared up exposing its belly as it climbed into our position

In that moment with no where to go or do. I threw myself over Joker and he in response gripped on to my arms. The pair of us in mutual acceptance of what was to come. I wasn’t panicking. Guess my brain knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

Then. Grinding and snapping metal filled my ears followed by a massive bang. The endless stream of lead stopped abruptly. I dared to open my eyes and look up. Only for my nose to touch the muzzle of the T80’s gun. It was burning the smell of boiling flesh and fur coming from within. The infantry that had been with it were either fleeing in panic or throwing up their paws in surrender. It took me a minute but looking around I finally noticed waves of tanks and mammals coming from behind us. The Polish flag flying proudly above them.

The emblem of the 1st Polish armoured division adorned the turrets of several. Much like what had happened to us they swarmed forward and, with out pausing, the smashed their way over the bridge. Like hounds chasing a fox they had the enemy in their sights and weren’t letting him go.

Felix still had me in a death grip and remembering his head injury I screamed “MEDIC! MEDIC!” I bellowed that word over and over again until my throat felt like sandpaper. But it worked as someone eventually came over to see what the fuss was all about. My eyes stayed locked with Felix’s until he and the stretcher bearers disappeared. Leaving me alone. 

Contemplating deaths hot sticky breath on my neck.


	7. Traitor or Patriot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all.  
> Just encase your wondering I dont speak Russian so if I messed up the translations I apologies.  
> Svolach - Scum  
> Huesos - cocksucker  
> Oh and I have also had some art commissioned witch will be at the start of the next few chapters. Massive thanks to Temiree on deviant art for the poster and I highly recommend you all check out his work:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/temiree

 

 

 

 

 

We should be considerate to the living; to the dead we owe only the truth. -  
Voltaire, Letter to M. de Grenonville (1719)

 

The battle of the Bjørnfjell bridge was a victory that led to the destruction of 2 Russian armies effectively ending the Scandinavian campaign. It was however a bloody victory for the 16th. Of the 800 mammals that landed on the 27th of November only 100 were left, most of whom were injured. Yet their success gained the attention of both allied high command and the world press. though the latter failed to mention they are a penal battalion. One outlet in Russia mentions how the defenders fought like savages and western HQ summons Lieutenant-Colonel Wittelsbach to discuss the future of the battalion. For the rank and file however, they receive a less courteous reception.

‘click’  
Ok...red light meeeaaaannns it working? Blyat where's Bolto when he needed? Ah hah. Ahem. My name is Sasha Kuznetsova, 16th assault engineer battalion. John once told me everyone has a day in their life when everything changes. Where what they once knew and who they once were...they lose and a new person emerges. Hm how can that wolf sound so wise for someone so young? He’s right though. My day started relatively normally.

Narvik, Norway, 10th January 2009, 12:00 hours

The weather was mild at least for me, stayed around the -11oc mark with light snow and hail. A light sea breeze blew in across the ruined city reaching the camp, rattling the barbed wire fences that ran around the perimeter. Military police paroling on the far side, their rifles slung over their soldier looking bored out of their minds. Life for a POW was not any harder than I was used too in fact was easier in some ways. Food was always provided as was fuel for cooking and heat and for the most part we were left alone. But my eye patch icing itself to my face was a problem.

As I moved through the camp, the mud would squelch with each step and seep up though my toes, its actually quite pleasant after a while. Small groups of mammals where sitting around causally chatting, some laughing and obviously ecstatic at having survived. Others spoke in hushed whispers, stopping as a guard would come near. And others were...like me. Just so hopeless and depressed. The shame of capture and of failing in our duty to Russia. Mine however was...worse.

I hadn’t only failed I-I was a traitor. I didn’t support the new regime or even like it. Given the choice I would have just stayed out of the whole mess, but that didn’t change the facts. My actions had still led to the deaths of my fellow country mammals. Some I knew, that had trusted me. And I…. This fact was already well known. No one would have anything to do with the traitor Svolach.

All except one. A rust coloured wolf everyone kept calling John.

The unusual part of the camp was that some of the inmates were not POWs, instead they were the mammals that had captured me. I had known for some time that they weren’t ordinary troops because they didn’t have any unit badges. They were also armed with whatever they could get and their discipline was none existent. This wolf had been amongst them. Tall and with a rusty brown fur coat running down his back and over his eyes.

When we first...encountered each other he had nearly killed me. Now though as everyone else turned their backs and left me he remained. At first I just tried ignoring him thinking he was just following me around like a lost puppy. I would pointedly ignore him when ever he would approach even growled at him on occasion. But still he kept coming around. I didn’t find him annoying or anything I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to wallow in my guilt alone and when needed to let it all out on my own. But he just wouldn’t let me.

Then one day, when I thought I had finally lost him, the weight became too much. I was pathetic. Sitting behind one of the huts quietly sobbing to myself. I hated being like this showing things getting to me. It was why I made sure I was on my own when it happened. But what else could I do? I could never go home again. Never see my brothers again. What little I had was now gone forever. I was so rapt up in my own thoughts I failed to notice the paw softly land on my shoulder.

Wasn’t until it gave a soft squeeze I noticed it. It was that damn wolf again. He had a look of understanding sympathy. Not pity, or amusement you would expect from a victor over their vanquished enemy.

If I had been myself I would have hit his paw away but instead my paw found its way slowly up to his. Gripping it tightly. And like that we stayed. We didn’t say anything, we couldn’t. Occasionally I’d hiccup or let out a sudden gasp and he’d respond by squeezing my shoulder reassuringly. Our friendship had started strange and in many ways would get stranger as time went on...but it is stronger than Peter the great.

After this it was me looking for him around the camp. He even began sneaking certain treats to me like chocolate and vodka, I still have no idea where John got it from but hell I wasn’t complaining. I did feel a little bad taking his spoils but John insisted.

The day everything changed I was looking through the camp for him. We usually met up around lunch as it was the easiest time for him to slip me whatever he had been able to grab that day. Truth was I had been trying to figure out how to repay him but I hadn’t come up with anything. Then a sickly sweet voice stopped me. “Awwww that hurt?” a series of sickening thumps came not long after. They were coming from one of the guard rooms.

“I don’t think he likes it” A second sarcastic voice sounded.

“You don’t need that leg do you?” The strange question was followed by the thud of a stock hitting flesh. Then the sound of snapping bone. “Just” Thud “a little” Thud “more” Peering through the crack in the door I saw two guards. One was an ox while the other was a bison, both wearing their MP uniforms. I then noticed the rusty wolf lying on the floor. The ox was standing on both his paws, pinning them to the floor. And the bison was bringing the but of his rifle down on his right leg, just above the knee.

John was bloodied, with a thin line of red liquid drooling from his mouth while his left eye was swollen shut. But he refused to make a sound. Not a cry, or a grunt. Nothing. Almost like he was used to it.

The next hit sounded strange. The tell tail thud gave way to the rapping of metal on wood. It wasn’t until the bison leant down and picked up John’s broken leg, the final few tendons of muscle snapping as he yanked at it, I realised what had happened. “There we are.” He laughed standing up and throwing the limb away like a piece of trash.

“Say Steve don’t you think he looks strange with only one leg?” The ox asked innocently.

After seeming to ponder for a minute the Bison agreed. “Your right, lets fix that.” As he lined up his rifle on his remaining leg I acted. I’d betrayed my friends once, I wont do it again.

Bursting into the room I slammed my fist into the first mammals jaw, feeling it snap on contact. Teeth flew in all directions. The Ox was so surprised he hesitated as I turned toward him. I must have looked unbelievably angry as his pupils narrowed even as he lunged at me with a knife. As I caught him, my lips drew back in a viscous snarl revealing my fangs turning the ox white. He was strong just not strong enough. And I slowly pushed him to the floor. I could have thrown him down. But I wanted him to realise he was losing.

Finally he collapsed, the knife sliding across the room and under a table. I was straddling him at this point and holding his hoofs in one paw I ploughed the other into his face. Then again. And again. Finally he went limp, slipping unconscious. I was still enraged as I watched that Huesos fall limp. But I was still aware of Johns plight. Rushing to his side I rolled him onto his back to inspect his injuries. Both his paws were swollen and inflamed and a bloody stump was what remained of his right leg. while only his right eye was open but I still saw the thanks in that eye just before it rolled back into his head and he passed out.

My protective rage finally passed and I noticed the light chuckle coming from the door as Medics rushed in.

A red manned lion, the same one I’d seen John talking to sometimes, was there along with a skunk. He looked across the scene from the bison in the corner, coughing out his few remaining teeth, to the ox with the destroyed face before falling on us. My nervous gulp didn’t go nu-noticed, I had just beaten to guards unconscious. The lion spoke and the Skunk translated what I expected would be the last few sentences I would hear.

“I have a proposition for you”


	8. Politics as usual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one of these days I'll keep a deadline...
> 
> Massive thanks to Temiree on deviant art for the poster and I highly recommend you all check out his work:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/temiree

 

“If you're going to kick authority in the teeth, you might as well use two feet.” _  
__―_ Keith Richards

 

As a result of the high loses to his battalion Lieutenant-Colonel Wittelsbach has been summoned to allied command. Those who called him there are determined to dissolved the 16 th both because of its loses and because it was attracting to much attention to a penal unit. Wittelsbach however has other ideas. 

 

North European command, Reichstag, Berlin, 11 th January 2009, 07:55 hours

 

Oh great halls of power. Monoliths of marble and exquisite glass constructed in a by gone age as a testament to glory, power and privilege. Reminds me of where I grew up but believe me when I say that names are far bigger and carry more weight than any monument. I know many might envy a high class up bringing with all the wealth and opportunity it provides for they see only the expensive uniform or magnificent mansions I own. But they forget that with power and privilege come responsibility and that is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

 

The halls echoed with paw and hoof steps as diplomats and clerks went about their tasks although what these were I cannot say. As you headed further west you’d begin to run into more and more military police and other personnel. Despite the creaturely exquisite surroundings it was typical of a headquarters, organised yet formal chaos with simple salutes and the bowing of heads the only greeting given or accepted. Intelligence officers disappeared through solid doors that closed with an equally solid thump. 

 

A young deer was seated behind a desk just next to an imposing white oak door. “Lieutenant-Colonel Wittelsbach is here to see you” She was what anyone would immediately think of when picturing a secretary. Young and innocent with a soft voice that project perfect queens English in flawless English accent.

 

Taking my seat I waited for I was there for and disagreement though I didn’t realise just how big it would end up being. The almost mirror like oak door before me lead to the office of British Field Marshal Weatherby, commander in chief of the Northern European theatre. The summons wasn’t going to be pleasant, It was most likely just a formality before a courts marshal and even if it wasn’t a demotion was a certainty. Lossing so many mammals under my command couldn’t be tolerated. 

 

“Are you ok?” I must have been starring as the secretary had a gentle blush as she spoke.

 

“No, thank you. My apologies” A small smile played at her lips. As I continued to weight I caught her glimpsing at my with a shy expression. Just before I was about to inquire as to what she was doing the speaker on her desk came to life.

 

“Send him in” Steeling myself I pushed on the silent sentry and entered.

 

The Field Marshal wasn’t what one might expect of an officer. The ageing racoon was small even for his species both in height and build, But his fur and uniform were immaculate and his speech that of someone well bread. “Lieutenant-Colonel Wittelsbach Welcome, Please take a seat.”

 

“Thank you sir” I try to keep my Swedish accent under control, especially when in the vicinity of foreign dignitaries.

 

He motioned to a seat, up to this moment, concealed behind the door in which sat a figure that made me inwardly groan. “I’m sure you remember Admiral Bellwether, Drink?” He offered me a whisky, quite the expensive vintage I must say, but I refused. I don’t tolerate my mammals drinking on duty and I don’t tolerate it in myself either. Though the ram had no such compunctions taking small sips as he sat there. “Now then down to business. You no doubt know why your here”

 

“Yes sir the losses of my battalion were high.”

 

“High?” he chuckled “They were the highest in the entire theatre.” My internals twisted at that for those lives were my responsibility. The unease must have manifested itself as the opera smile on my superiors face vanished. “Though that is to be expected of such a unit. Its why they were sent for after all but that’s not why you where called here” I was puzzled. Officers had been court marshalled for less so I waited as he finished his first whiskey “I understand you volunteered for the post as there were no others available well it just so happens one of my Colonels has...gone missing. The 160th battalion needs a new commander.” A pair of rank slides were pushed across the table towards me. “Congratulations Överste Wittelsbach”

 

I regarded the small strips of fabric on the table. So innocuous. Just two small strips with three stars in a line and a crown atop. “And what of the 16th sir?”

 

“It will be disbanded” came the even reply that made me feel uneasy. The 16th had performed far better than it had any right to yet they were to be past around like a used snuff box. MY battalion had earned better than that and if no one else would stand by them then I would. I pushed the rank slides back across the table as the racoon stared in near disbelief. “You don’t want the promotion?”

 

I took a deep breath “I’d prefer to stay with my mammals, sir” Weatherby and Bellwether shared a disproving glance. “The 16th was only supposed to hold the battery for 48 hours at most yet where able to hold it for many weeks”

 

“Only with help from MY ships many of which where lost as a direct result.” The insufferable ram behind me interjected.

 

Undeterred I continued. “That was true of all units sir and need I remind you of the Bjørnfjell bridge. They are responsible for the ending of the Scandinavian campaign. All this scavenged weapons and stolen ammunition. Imagine what they could do when properly equipped and trained sir”.

 

The admiral stormed forwards pounding his fist on to the desk “We’d have a group of highly trained and well equipped murderers with no discipline or loyalty. Need I remind you they are still criminals and will be treated as such.”

 

“That is not your decision to make admiral.” Weatherby, who had been quietly observing the exchange, spoke up obviously not liking Bellwether speaking on the conduct of one of his units. “Shall I remind you admiral that it was your choice to move you fleet into the Fjord, Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but the loss of those ships and mammals rest squarely on your shoulders” His firm tone silenced us both for he spoke with such sureness and authority that the ram seemed to visibly shrink. “The treatment and conduct of my armies and every mammal in them are my concern NOT yours.”

 

He took another sip of his whiskey as Bellwether retreated to his seat. “Wittelsbach. There is more at play here than just the performance of your mammals.” Producing a news paper he showed me the front page.

 

**Battalion of the damned win Norway! Appear to be under the influence of Nighthowler!**

 

“Do you know what a Nighthowler is Wittelsbach?” He asked in a low tone.

 

“No sir”

 

“Its a flower that when ingested causes mammal to indulge their more savage urges.” I could feel Bellwethers sneer as the field Marshal continued in the same low voice. “The politician are getting concerned that our troops are being described as such.” A short pause occurred. “If I grant you this I need to be sure their loyalty and professionalism is guaranteed. I need officers that can insure this.” Another pause. “Can you insure this?”

 

My paw touched my rank slide. Yet my belief did not faultier. “If I fail you may hang me along side them. Sir” The conviction made a fond smile spread across the racoon face.

 

“This is a mammal I can work with.”Taking a small slip of paper from a stack he began scribbling down transfer orders. “I’ll need a list of officers from you no doubt a few promotions are in order.” he had returned to his warm and yet formal tone as he spoke so quickly that neither of us could speak. “The 26th and 303rd battalions where also badly beaten, they’ll make up most of the rank and file though I will have to find 200 new recruits from somewhere”

 

Handing me the piece of paper he still did not stop. “You wont get cutting edge equipment but it will be better. I want that battalion battle ready with in 6 months. Understood? dismissed”

 

Replacing my cap I gave a clean cut salute. “Yes Sir” before turning and marching out. Feeling the smile trying to tug my lips upwards.

 

“Is there anything else Bellwether?”

 

“No”

 

When the door closed Bellwether quietly snarled “This isn’t over throw rug” Before storming off.

 


	9. Back in Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still writing but having to fit it around my new job so chapters will now be up as soon as I am able. Sorry to disappoint you all.  
> Also I am debating whether or not to do personnel files on the various characters in my stories. Let me know what you think 
> 
> Massive thanks to Temiree on deviant art for the poster and I highly recommend you all check out his work:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/temiree

 

 

 

What I have done up to this is nothing. I am only at the beginning of the course I must run.

 

\- Napoleon Bonaparte,  _Memoirs of Count Miot de Melito_

 

6 months have passed and separatist Russian forces are in full scale retreat on all fronts. With their north western flank almost completely destroyed they rapidly fall back towards St Petersburg in an attempt to stabilise the line. Calling in re-enforcements from everywhere while being rapidly pursued by allied forces and Russian loyalists. Loyalist forces seize the opportunity and launch offensives on their weakened enemy. The 16th meanwhile has had a quiet half year rearming and reorganising and now they wait for the call to prove their worth. For some though they have been waiting for one mammal in particular.

 

Helsinki airport, Helsinki, Finland, 16th July 2009, 09:00 hours

 

The drone of those 4 props was so monotonous. How the crew put up with it day in day out is beyond me but eh I somehow managed to stomach Nixon’s constant belly aching so I guess its not that difficult. None the less I was glad when we finally touched down, the slight squeak accompanied by the smell of burning rubber telling me it was time to jump back into a world of blood and gore. Hospital life was pretty good I have to say. Warm, clean and with no shortage of attractive nurses not that any of them gave the one legged, teenage wolf a second glance...didn’t stop me though.

 

Hey, I spent 6 months recovering d’you honestly expect me not to check them out? At least I kept my paws to myself. Anyway those months had been spent learning to walk and use my new leg though even then I knew it was gonna need substantial alterations for what I was gonna use it for. It was just a bog standard prosthetic after all.

 

Stepping off the plane I was greeted by a wall of warm summer air with a strong smell of pine and jet fuel carried by it. The faint sound of blaring car horns and traffic from the nearby capital being drowned out by the disciplined crack of rifles and chatter of helicopter blades.

 

Coming back was a bit of a shock. In more ways than you might expect. Not really sure what I expected but it sure as fuck wasn't that. Soldiers were doing laps, jumping jacks and rifle practice. For a second I wondered if there’d been a cock up and I’d been sent to the wrong base. Though that thought was dispelled by a familiar bullish call making the mammals around me look in its direction. “Just the mammal I was looking for!” Spinning round towards the Glaswegian voice I was met by the blood red mane and sandy fur of Riley. “Didnae learn your lessen?” A firm pat on the back followed when he reached me.

 

“Heh I never was too smart Sergeant” I chuckled shaking his paw.

 

“Lieutenant” he dead panned. Taking a second glance I began to notice several differences. Some so big I don’t know how I missed them. Badges now adorned his sleeves one was a simple golden 16 on a royal purple circle with a black border. Another was the symbol of the penal corps a jet black rhombus adorned by a white noose and paw-cuffs in the form ofP and B and a Scottish flag proudly displayed his homeland on his left arm. His new rank insignia now sat in the centre of his chest and a brand new royal purple beret was placed atop his head with a golden flower glinting in the sun. No prizes for figuring out what flower it was.

 

Unsure if this was a wind up or not I slowly repeated “Lieutenant?”.

 

A warm smile spread across the felines lips. “You have some catching up to do. Follow me” He then turned about and led me, limping, through the base. Pointing to one group, made up of mega-faunasuch as elephants and rhinos, Riley explained to me how the battalion had been restructured. “First off we’ve split everyone up into groups based on size and experience. That lot over there are known as heavies and carry all our heavy kit.”

 

“So their pack mules basically?”

 

After taking a cigarette Riley offered me one which I took without hesitation. I was already hooked on the damned things. “Effectively. Their size makes em easy targets but it also makes em great gun platforms.” he chuckled. “Next up we have sparkies made up of new recruits and tech guys. We are still an engineer battalion after all.” I was beginning to wonder where I came into all this but, as if reading me mind, the lion answered that question. “Your in the third group called Shock troopers. Armed with explosives, fully automatic and melee weapons and chosen for their aggression.”

 

Aggression? That was hard to swallow. OK so I had a moment when I hacked 5 mammals to pieces. But that was just a one off? It...was just a one off right? Seeming to not notice my inner thoughts Ed hadn’t stopped. “And finally scouts. Made up mostly of the smaller mammals this bunch are chosen for their marksmammalship and observation skills.”

 

“Goldie?” That joyousif cautious Canadian voice had me slowly turning towards it “It is you!” and sure enough Felix was there with an identical beret to the Lieutenants though this one was pierced by his one remaining horn. I was expecting a simple paw shake but as he began to pick up speed on his approach I knew that wasn’t gonna be an option. It is worth mentioning that although I had spent most of my time off learning to walk I was still new to the whole metal leg idea, particularly the part where I couldn’t feel the bastard thing. So what happened when the Onyx slammed into me is not very surprising even with me braced...the fact is was basically a rugby tackle didn’t help either.

 

The pair of us ended up in a pile on the tarmac, the larger and heavier mammal landing on top of my still bruised body. For a second I thought the twit had busted my rib again. “Damn its good to see you again” He was still sitting on me at this point with several other mammals looking on confused.

 

“Ugh get off me” A forceful shove got the nitwit off me.

 

The onyx whined as he rolled onto the dirt “What? No greeting hug? Not even a fist bump?”He held up his fist inviting me to reciprocate. I made sure to give an exaggerated roll of my eyes and sigh before lightly bumping our knuckles together. It was good to see Joker again though and I couldn’t stop the grin that slipped across my face.

 

A clearing throat changed that though. “Alright ye lovebirds knock it off! UP!” We both shot to our feet at the lions roar. “Lance corporal Peterson you put your superior back in the hospital and I’ll be sure you follow him!”

 

“Sir!” The onyx saluted.

 

I barely had chance to register Felix’s new rank before Riley's ire turned on me. “An you! Your a corporal now Blackwell SO START ACTING LIKE IT!” To hammer the point home a crisp, a brand new pair of corporal slides were shoved into my chest making me stagger slightly.

 

“Yes Sir!” I bellowed. A familiar snow leopardess was standing off behind the Lieutenant with a smirk that combined amusement and a dash fondness.

 

“Good. Now corporal follow me, boss wants to see you.” A 5 minute limp found us in Lieutenant-Colonel Wittelsbach command post. It was a makeshift affair set up in what was once a department store. Never understood that, why would you need a department store in an airport selling shit like hats? Surely you bring one with you or just wait till you get to the other end? A map was attached to the wall behind what was once the check out while more maps and forms were draped over other tables that once served as displays and radios were set up in the electronics section.

 

Carolus was behind the check out silently stroking his chin as he inspected  a map. “Corporal Blackwell  s ir” Riley introduced us  breaking the reindeer from his thoughts.

 

“Thank you Riley.” His immaculate appearance was something to behold as was the way he held himself. I expected him to be a pompous, stuck up twat. The type that looked down their snout at the gutter snipe before him. His favourable treatment of me back in Narvik was probably just because I shut the stinking admiral up I reasoned. “How are you feeling Corporal?” But he sounded genially concerned.

 

“Sore but otherwise fine sir” I kept my voice even knowing Riley was standing right behind me. He may have been bullish and a firebrand but Riley made sure to insure respect for our superiors was thoroughly ingrained in us. 

 

The reindeer nodded “Understandable. If you have any problems let me know. Now I’ve no doubt your wondering why your here?”

 

I pretended to ponder for a moment  as you only got called in for one of two reasons and I hadn’t fucked up...yet. “Guessing you have a job”  That got me a slap round the head from the lion behind.

 

He nodded again. “Yes. A very dangerous one” He then turned to the map set up behind him. “This is Tallinn, the Estonian capital and more importantly the centre of resistance for what is left of the Estonian army  and loyal Russian forces .  They are some 100 miles behind the front line and are being pressed by separatist forces as it would appear the separatist have learnt from their  previous mistakes.” He laid out the situation without the barest hint of emotion. “Put simply the surrounded forces are beginning to fail and need reinforcement s and relief.”

 

R iley then interjected “We’re bein sent in via aircraft landing at Tallinn airport” 

 

He wasn’t telling me something. “I’m guessing it isn’t that simple though sir”

 

“You would be correct” He sighed clearly not liking what he was telling me. “The airstrip is covered by artillery and anti aircraft guns. I don’t need to tell you what would happen if we attempted a landing with them in place.”

 

“And that’s where ye come in” Riley once again spoke. “Intel has identified this as the main radar array” He pointed to an area of high ground near what was once a botanical garden. “Blow it up and all their AA will be useless.” A bullish smile told me that even though the lion had been promoted he was still the same hard drinking, shit talking, nutcase who enjoyed a fist fight.

 

Still despite Riley’s confidence something struck me a strange.  “Forgive me sir but aren't there forces specially trained for this kind of mission?”

 

The reindeer took a deep breath “Yes but everyone sees this entire affair as a suicide mission. High command doesn't want to risk its highly trained and difficult to replace units,” So th is bloody Swede is  trying to kill  me again was my  immediate reaction “but you  Blackwell have experience in such matters.  You led an effective operation behind enemy lines in Narvik and Private Kuznetsova has proven  remarkably effective  at demolition ”  I could tell the well spoken officer genuinely had faith in me. But that didn’t change the nature of what he was asking. 

 

I wasn’t blinded by anger or worn down by hunger and fatigue as I was last time a mission like this was proposed giving my rational mind time to bounce the proposition around my synapses.

 

“I know I’m asking a lot of you son, especially so soon after a life altering injury and if you chose to refuse I’ll send someone else” Since when did an officer give the rank and file a choice to not follow orders? Especially in a penal battalion? “But you are the best for the mission John.” He was serious. You could tell just from his voice and it finally made up my mind. 

 

That feeling of having someone who believes in you is...intoxicating and in time gives you something to rally to in time of need. I didn’t realise it yet but that feeling he gave me, and I would later get from other s , would push me further than any gun wielding commissar. “When do we leave Sir?


End file.
